The Arms of Angels
by began-to-climb
Summary: After the Valentine's Day from hell, full of day dreams and sorrow, Ruthie returns home and finds the person she least expected. Ruthin, OneShot


**Name: **The Arms of Angels

**Rating: **PG

**Summary: **After the Valentine's Day from hell, filled with countless day dreams about the one guy that she allowed get away, Ruthie Camden arrives home for the last thing she ever expected.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters!

**Authors Note: **This is set after _Love and Obsession _and it generally meant to be a one-shot. It will remain that unless I decide to continue it. This story only works, by the way, if you think that Ruthie never really got to see Aaron (the baby) in the hospital.

XXXX

The dense street lights blazed past in a trance, flying into a vision of blended colors. Blue meshed with black, yellow clashed with white…the red of lit-up vehicles on the side of the road, selling chocolates and flowers for late notice Valentine's Day shoppers, shown brightly on the corners. The very sight made Ruthie Camden sick to her stomach, her dulled eyes targeting one object and following it as they drove past, the pedestrian dying away slowly.

Eric Camden followed behind a green car as they came to a pause at a red light, the line of endless cars to the east and west purring to life and continuing on with their day. The older reverend turned in his leather chair, looking at his twin sons asleep in the back seat then advanced to talk to Ruthie. The heart-broken teenager, the headphones linked to her iPod plugged into each of her ears playing music soft enough that she could hear anything addressed to her, ignored her father's attempts to get her to talk once again. His earlier words still built pain in her body.

_Let him go. _

Out of the corner of her eye she saw her mother, a sagacious and kind blonde woman that had the strength to deliver seven children and practically adopt many more, lay a hand on Eric's shoulder, silently ordering him to leave Ruthie alone for the time being. A woman's heart is like an ocean, full of secrets and sorrow. The street light changed and the car moved on, winding around the streets to their house. Ruthie set the song on repeat once it ended. A tear fell down her cheek.

No matter how much she tried, how much she vowed to herself that he would not cause her to shed another tear, he would not make her mourn him, he would not fill her empty thoughts…he always managed to. The time, the place, none of that mattered. The smallest moment alone could easily produce his voice, his face, anything left of him. He was the only guy she ever loved; she was secretly in love with him, a once small infatuation that turned into an unexpected obsession. She watched quietly in the shadow, poising innocently as his best friend, as he went through his share of girlfriends, turning offers over and over in her palm for boyfriends. She took most of them, the sneaky voice in the back of her head saying she could make him jealous, but it never seemed to work. Then something clicked and she thought she'd won, only to learn the dreadful secret.

He was going to be a father to another woman's baby. Sandy's baby.

The baby was born and she hadn't seen him since. He spent most of his time where Sandy was; taking care of them both and not caring for anyone back home. Ruthie knew that was what hurt her the most. The fact that he didn't call her and tell her anything that was happening, didn't move to keep in touch. Her older brother called her and _he_ would update her. It was a chain just to find out the simplest emotions. She cried, shedding tears of woe. She cried for him, for the future they could have if they just took the opportunity to explore, for his baby, for the very situation. Now he was in love with his child and would possibly be building a future with the one woman he didn't know, but had a one-night stand with, one that was only a scheme to get to Simon.

The welcoming lights of her childhood house became a beacon in the darkness of her thoughts. The car sped to a halt in the density of the driveway, pulling around the house to the garage in the back. The small leftover family piled out of the car and trooped out of the garage. Sam and David were each snuggled in one of their parents arms, exhausted from the activity of the day, while Ruthie lagged behind, enjoying the fresh winter and feel of the cool night. She turned her attention to her iPod, looking down at it instead of in front of her. Eric held the door open for Annie and they proceeded into the backyard, falling into a playful conversation with each other. A stranger on their porch steps caused them to stop in their tracks.

Ruthie trailed her parent's steps, unaware that their voices had ceased and their strides had abruptly stopped. She uneasily maneuvered around them, grumbling to herself. Eric's hand latched out and Ruthie looked up at him, momentarily angry he had stopped her; what did he want now? Another lecture on why it wasn't healthy to fantasize over someone who was no longer around? Or how wishing someone was still with them couldn't change the past and bring them back? Ruthie noticed her father's eyes were on something else and she followed. A small gasp rose in her throat.

"Martin."

The raven-haired baseball player stood; unnoticeably stumbling over his own feet to reach ground, and brushed off the back of his torn jeans. He smiled at the people who had basically become his second family. "You're home early. I wasn't expecting you until later."

"How long have you been out here?" Eric ventured to ask.

Ruthie saw Martin's eyes train on her for a moment; she couldn't process all this yet. Was he really here? Or was this just another dream that her family just happened to be involved in? Was this another sick joke to play on her heart?

She shook herself and clued into the conversation just as Martin Brewer was explaining himself. "I haven't been out here per say. I've been mostly inside. Aaron's asleep upstairs. I found a crib in the old nursery…I hope you don't mind Mrs. Camden. He was getting fussy. Tired from the long drive, I guess."

Annie beamed, radiating. She walked forward and patted Martin's shoulder, comforting the young man. "Of course not. Is Sandy with you?"

Martin bowed his head, shuffling his feet. "No. She wasn't exactly up for a drive. Simon told me about Lucy and Kevin's dinner at the hotel and I wanted to come by, so…But I obviously got here too late. You'd already left by the time I arrived."

Eric finally stepped forward, abandoning Ruthie's side. "You should have called one of us. We would have come gotten you and Aaron."

"It's all right. It was for the best." He paused, his eyes flicking to Ruthie again.

Annie caught this and looked back to her youngest daughter. She smiled. She reached her hand out to Eric. "We'll leave you two alone. Come on, Eric."

"But—"

Annie shot him a look, immediately stopping his protest, and dragged him inside, closing the back door with a loud click. Ruthie waited for the sound of scurrying feet to disappear before she moved. She climbed onto the table and bench, using the wooden bench as solid to place her feet on. Her gaze went to the stars, a curl bouncing across her vision. Martin stood, unsure of what to say, and admired her. She was beautiful and he hated she didn't know he thought so. He sat on the table beside her, bracing his elbows on his knees, and looked at the stars too, finding it comforting to have something to look out. Actions were always better than words.

"Why are you really here?" Ruthie suddenly asked. She didn't even look at him; she couldn't, yet.

Martin smiled. "I was telling the truth, honest."

"You were never good at lying, Martin. I know you better than anyone here…don't play games with me." Ruthie said sternly.

Martin looked at her. He was always good at reading her, she was too easy, but tonight she had lost expression. Her face was a blank canvas. He sighed, ducking his head in his hands for a minute, then raked his hand through his hair. "I'm coming back."

Ruthie swallowed, her eyes rimming with tears. How could something she always dreamt that would be the best thing feel like such a stab in the heart, bleeding out profusely into an open pool of pain? She looked away, wanting to run from him. She wouldn't let him see her. The old Ruthie was buried. "Really? Why don't I believe you?"

"Why wouldn't you?"

She swallowed her pain and flashed everything else. "Simon called. He said you and Sandy were getting along famously, that you were absolutely in love with Aaron…that you and Sandy were getting married."

The last word was said with ice, but Martin didn't hear her tone. Married? What? "Simon said that?" Ruthie nodded. "Ruthie, that's not true. Yes, I love Aaron. He's my son, but Sandy and I are—we're just getting along for him. We're playing house for his sake. We don't like being around each other behind closed doors, if even in public—"

"And I'm supposed to believe you? After everything, Martin? After all your lies? Am I?"

"Yes."

"Why? You've already lied to me! You've already broken my heart. What's to say your aren't bluffing now and you'll be gone in a week, if even that? Who's to say you aren't going to do it again? What proof do I hold that you won't run back to her? Back to them?"

"That isn't going to happen! I'm back, standing right in front of you. And if you're too…gone to realize that, then that's your thing. But I'm here and I'm not running. Aaron is my son, and Sandy is his mother, so, yes, I'm going to have to go back for some things. I want to be in his life! I want him to have a father growing up. I want him to have that! But my whole life is here. I still have to finish high school, I have to go to college, my father is here, my friends are here—you're here." He groaned, regaining himself. He glanced over at her. "My heart could never belong to her. It's already been stolen."

He was focused on her. He wanted to see her hear his words, wanted to watch her reaction, but she was too smart for that. She ducked from him, turned away from him so he wouldn't see the tears he made resurface. She didn't understand. She wanted to be angry with him for leaving and for lying, but all she could do was cry. They were weakness. A small exhale of breath escaped her lips when she heard Martin storm off the table and circle, until he was right in front of her. The shadows of the table cast down on him, coating half his face in ebony. Ruthie refused to look at him.

Martin, on the other hand, wasn't amused. He stomped his foot like a child about to throw a tantrum, looking around. His anger died as Ruthie swiped relentless at her tears, tearing them away. He knelt down in front of her. "Ruthie." She shook her head, tucking her chin in deeper in an attempt to keep her head down. Martin hooked her chin, but didn't move to lift it. "At least look at me." When she didn't, he gripped her chin gently and rose. Her red eyes met his. "Please."

They gazed at each other for a minute, Ruthie wiping away lingering tears from her distant eyes. After a few minutes, Martin stood and offered his hand to her. She stared at it, questioning. "I want you to meet him."

Ruthie looked at him, again reluctant. Could she do that? Did she have the strength? Could she find the courage to walk into her own house and stare down at the baby that was so rumored to resemble Martin so heavily? "I don't…"

"I'll protect you." Martin vowed.

Ruthie cast one last look at him, as if for reassurance. The look in his eyes gave her the power to place her hand in his, giving him everything in one touch. He pulled her off the table and straight into his arms. He held her to him, tangling his hands in her hair as she wrapped her arms tightly around him, face pressed into his chest. Martin dropped a kiss in her hair, secretly breathing in the scent of lavender. They stood in each other's arms at perfect contentment; in the arms of angels.

Martin was the first to break away, lacing his fingers with Ruthie's, and dragged her up the stairs to the house. The rhythm of their old selves played again, courting into teasing spouts about non-important things. They climbed the narrow stairs, Martin holding their conjoined hands over Ruthie's head as he allowed her to go first, and then they rounded the corner that led to the main hallway. The nursery was beside Sam and David's room so it was closer to the main stairs. The house felt dead of life outside them; not one soul of a sound could be heard. It was as if the four other occupants had evaporated.

"So, how did you exactly get into the house?" Ruthie inquired.

"I still have a key." Martin confessed.

Ruthie mockingly gasped. "Stalker!" Then she laughed. "You're just lucky we didn't change the locks on you."

"Whatever Ruthie."

The nursery was the same as it had always been. The same colors and the same arrangement of furniture. Seven children later, not one thing had changed. Martin bound in it, hearing Aaron stirring, but Ruthie hesitated. She had never been afraid to walk in and out of the room, but the small presence inside actually drew fear. She watched Martin coo at Aaron, wagging his finger in his face and making funny faces, and knew he was going to be a good father. He picked Aaron up and expertly cradled him in his arms, gazing down at the baby. He rocked him gently, not once mentioning anything to Ruthie. But she didn't mind. He looked safe where he was.

After a minute, once Aaron had settled, Martin looked up at Ruthie, a broad smile of pride on his lips. Ruthie blinked; that was the first time she'd ever seen such a smile from him. He gestured for her to enter and she did, hesitating for a brief moment. She stalked forward, unreasonably nervous, and stood at his side, forcing her attention solely on him. He looked between her and Aaron, tilting his son slightly so Ruthie could see.

"Ruthie, I'd like you to meet Aaron Brewer." Martin introduced.

Ruthie looked down at Aaron and was taken back. This little baby was beautiful. Ruthie's breath caught in her throat. She'd been afraid? Of this little guy? He looked like a teddy bear. Martin saw this and asked if she would like to hold him. Ruthie nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips, and eagerly took Aaron when Martin professionally transferred him into her arms. Ruthie balanced herself, getting a better grip of Aaron, and smiled down at him.

"Hi. Hi Aaron." she whispered, forgetting Martin was in the room watching this take place. "I'm Ruthie. I'm your daddy's friend. You're lucky; you got a cool dad. He can be annoying and hardheaded sometimes, but he means well. He loves you so much, Aaron. It may feel, on days, that he's trying to ruin your life, but he's just looking out for you. I'd know. He's always protected me. So don't whine. You got lucky, kid."

Ruthie rocked Aaron, fondly stroking the soft fuzzes on his head. Martin appeared beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, laying a kiss on the side of her head. Ruthie didn't feel it; she was lost in this baby. She tilted her head, examining Aaron more closely.

"They're right…he looks just like you." she finally commented.

Martin bowed his head bashfully. "Thanks."

Ruthie smiled and Martin held her tighter against her, leaning his head on hers. If anyone had been a peeping tom at that time, seeing these two with a baby in tow they would have looked like the perfect new family, both young parents affectionately gazing down at their new baby that would be spoiled from head to toe. They wore the perfect disguise. Time wasted away standing in that room and no one disturbed them. Aaron fell back asleep after a bit, but Ruthie didn't want to put him down. She didn't want this little one out of her sight. Martin gazed at her; she'd be a great mother.

"Hey Ruth," Martin whispered, interrupting her moment.

Ruthie's head shot up, flying around to look at him. Without hesitation, his lips descended on hers, brushing across with a velvet touch. It was brief, but breathless. Martin hovered after the kiss, poised to kiss her again, but stared into her eyes.

"So, you're really staying?" Ruthie breathed.

Martin closed his lips and smiled. "Yes."

Ruthie smiled too, clasping her hand on the back to Martin's neck. "I could get used to that."

Martin laughed to himself. Their lips met a second time.

XXXX

FIN


End file.
